Thread of Light

A thread of light slips through memory’s cracks
stopping at an edge where the day breaks apart
time breathes between thin panes of glass
and traces a time that won’t show itself to the sun
Tile after tile, a silent map folds up
secret like a kitchen forgotten by dawn
telling things that have no place in the day
small presences that only breathe when it’s dark
The thread creeps through cracks and dust
where memories whisper voiceless names
it points to paths the light dares not touch
yet they are there, almost still stars
So the thread continues, light and tenacious
marking an itinerary of lost-time dreams
to find again, between a flash and a pause, the map
that invites remembering what the day does not tell